


The Boy From The Shore - Starker SirenAU

by TwoKinkyBeans



Series: Myths and Mysteries AUs [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Dreams, Lighthouses, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Control, Obsession, Safe For Work, Visions, a lil dark tbh, flash is called eugene in this, for a trigger warning, no clue how to tag this, please read the notes, sea stuff, siren!tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24273865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoKinkyBeans/pseuds/TwoKinkyBeans
Summary: Ever since he was a little boy, Peter had listened to the voice in the night. Soft and deep. Warm. It enveloped him in the darkness of his room. The voice was distant, singing in tongues none would understand. Peter knew the voice came from the rough shores. Sounds of waves crashing muffled the song Peter so desperately wanted to hear. To learn. He found that if he opened his windows, the wind would carry the voice into his room, even on winter days. He would fall asleep to the melody, hearing it in his dreams, guiding him to the beach.PLEASE PLEASE READ THE NOTES BEFORE DIVING IN
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Myths and Mysteries AUs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752238
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	The Boy From The Shore - Starker SirenAU

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody, I wrote this one shot within an hour, after getting hit with an explosion of inspiration. This work is rather melancholic, which I initially didn’t mean for it to be. When I reread it, I realized the ending could be read as implied suicide, so I wanted to point out that I never wrote it to be read like that. However, the reader is free to interpret it however they like. I do want to let you know that if you are lonely and/or suicidal, please think of one thing that you love and hold onto that. Every country has their own suicide hotline with people who can help you and trust me when I say that you would be missed and that it’s not worth it. Thank you for staying with us, your fight is tough but you are tougher! <3
> 
> -Lien

Ever since he was a little boy, Peter had listened to the voice in the night. Soft and deep. Warm. It enveloped him in the darkness of his room. The voice was distant, singing in tongues none would understand. Peter knew the voice came from the rough shores. Sounds of waves crashing muffled the song Peter so desperately wanted to hear. To learn. He found that if he opened his windows, the wind would carry the voice into his room, even on winter days. He would fall asleep to the melody, hearing it in his dreams, guiding him to the beach.

Visions of a man with dark hair and dark eyes welcoming Peter with open arms clouded his mind. The man would beckon Peter to join him in the water, his song echoing, inviting. Peter would take slow steps, dragging his feet through the sand, unable to look away. He wanted to join him. Wanted to sing with him. His body shivered when the cold water hit his bare feet. The sleep wear would never be enough to keep him warm, but the freezing temperatures didn’t bother him. All he wanted was to be with the man who sang so beautifully. However, when the man would outstretch his arm, offering Peter his hand to hold, the boy would be awakened by his aunt for yet another day of dull chores at the lighthouse. On his time off, one could always find Peter at the shore. Waiting. Longing. But the man never came when the sun was out.

On a stormy day, Peter thought he heard the voice. Calling out for him from the sea. Against his aunt’s and uncle’s wishes, he snuck out, defying the rain and the wind pushing and pulling at his small body. He had to dig his feet into the sand, but it was too much. He fell to his knees and crawled, the song growing louder and louder the closer to shore he came. The waves were tall and intimidating but the man was there, among them, Peter was sure of it. When the silhouette of a person appeared, Peter nearly cried with desperation as he ran into the wild waters, but before he could reach the man, the water swallowed him whole.

The day after he woke in bed. Cold. Sore. His aunt and uncle were furious. They found him in the sand when the wind had settled and it was safe to be out again. Unconscious. How could he be so stupid as to run into the ocean while it was storming? He could have died. Peter knew. Peter cried. Not because he might have never woken up again, but because he missed his chance to meet the man behind the voice.

Nobody believed Peter when he told them about the man. Brushed it off as childish imagination. That he was seeing things because of his oxygen deprivation during the storm. He was mocked for his dreams by peers and elders until he simply would not speak of it anymore and everyone would forget of the siren’s existence. When he turned thirteen, his aunt decided that the lighthouse was not suited for a boy like him. He was too obsessed with the waters and what hid below. Peter was sent away and he cried soft tears when on the first night alone, in a city, with a family he did not care for, he no longer heard the voice.

For a while, Peter would think of the voice. Forcing himself to remember it. What it sounded like. What it felt like. But the longer he was away, the more occupied he became with other things. The jobs his new family made him do. The people they made him meet. He was forced to build a new life inland and, eventually, the memories of his dreams faded. He never quite fit in. Asked too many questions, was too eager to learn. Too smart. Bullies targeted him for his brightness, so he simply busied himself, hoping that one day he would be the Boy from the Shore once more.

On the day he turned twenty two, he punched the mayor’s son. He was bothering Michelle, a girl Peter had fancied for a while now. She had no interest in Eugene and found solace with Peter. When Eugene grabbed Michelle’s arm, Peter’s white knuckles collided with his jaw. The mayor was furious and ordered for Peter to be jailed. Peter took that as an invitation to finally flee this life, bidding Michelle farewell by tasting her soft lips for the first and last time.

He figured aunt May would cry when he’d return. Imagined how she would sob into his chest, arms wrapped around him. How she would exclaim her regrets about sending Peter away so far. Uncle Ben would simply put his hand on Peter’s shoulder and smile. Tell him how much he had missed him. That it was good to have him back. However, when Peter arrived at the lighthouse, he found it abandoned. Dust had collected everywhere after years of neglect. The nostalgia he felt soon crumbled, when he read the official note on the table. There was no use for this lighthouse anymore. They would no longer be imbursed for their services. They left. And they never told Peter.

Tears flowed down Peter’s cheeks at the realization that he was truly alone. He ripped the note into pieces and left the lighthouse. His blind anger guiding him to shore to scream at the waves with frustration. When his throat ached and his lungs had no breath left in them, he laid down in the sand, eyes to the sky and arms spread. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he was tired. His eyes fluttered shut to the static noise of the waves, the seagulls screaming in the far distance, the cold wind cutting into his skin.   
“Take me,” he whispered to the seas. “Please, just take me.”

  
“Where to?” Peter’s eyes flew open and he sat upright within a second. In front of him, in the still waters, stood the man.  _ Anywhere _ , Peter wanted to reply, but he could not find it in himself to give in so soon.   
“Are you real?” Peter muttered.   
“Can you see me?” The man replied with a question of his own, his voice was as deep as his eyes. As the ocean. Peter nodded. “Can you hear me?”   
“Yes.” It was barely a sound.   
“Can you feel me?”   
“I don’t know.”   
“Come, Peter,” the siren said with a smile, opening his palm with curled fingers and offering his hand. “Come feel me.”

Before Peter’s consciousness caught up with what he was doing, he found himself crawling over the sand and into the sea. When the water reached his chin, he put down his feet to continue his path to the man. He was unsure if he was dreaming, but he had nothing left to lose. Should the waves swallow him again, he would let them. He remembered the visions from his childhood and a similar fear overcame him. His chest ached knowing of the possibility that once he would reach the man, it would all go up in smoke. When Peter hesitated, the man started humming. The familiar sensation washes over Peter and he closes his eyes, basking in the warmth of the man’s voice. It caressed him. Touched him. It felt good. Safe.   
“ _ Come feel me _ ,” the man repeated in his song and Peter obeyed, stretching out his arm to reach for the man. The humming vibrated through Peter’s body and a dreamy smile spread across his face. This is what he wanted for so long. He yearned for this. And now, he got to have it.

The man’s fingers finally brushed past Peter’s and he gasped softly. The man pulled Peter in further until he was flush against the man’s chest. His arms creeped around the man’s body to hug him tight. He never wanted to let go again. The man petted Peter’s sandy hair and ceased his humming.   
“I am real,” the man stated. They stood there in silence for a while. “I was afraid you’d left for good.”   
“It wasn’t my choice to leave.” Peter’s voice was shaky, his breathing nothing more than soft whimpers as he pushed himself harder against the man.

“I know.” The siren pressed a kiss on top of Peter’s hair. “But you are here now. And you are finally mine.”   
“Yours,” Peter whispered in reply. “Will you sing for me?”   
“I will give you my voice forever, if you stay with me.” Peter pushed back slightly so he could look the man in the eye. His voice was soft, pleading.   
“Take me,” he said once more. “Please, take me.”   
“Where to?” The siren smirks as he gently leads Peter deeper into the water. The boy didn’t even notice, too enthralled. Peter sighed, closing his eyes content until his feet could no longer find the ground.   
“ _ Anywhere. _ ”


End file.
